Framed as a Gold Digger, I Destroyed My Fiancé's Empire

Right before my college graduation, my fiancé, Oliver Jefferson, the CEO of Jefferson Group, threw an incredibly over-the-top engagement party just for me.

Champagne towers, chandeliers, a jazz trio flown in from New Orleans, the works.

And right in the middle of it, Oliver handed me a supplementary credit card.

"Use it however you like," he said, slipping it into my palm like it was a love letter.

Sweet, right?

Well… I didn't use it. Not a single swipe.

Apparently, that didn't sit too well with him.

"Therese," Oliver said one night, jaw tight, frustration bubbling beneath his too-smooth voice. "You're going to be my wife. The money I earn? It's meant for you to enjoy. So, if you refuse to use it, what does that mean? You don't love me? Or are you planning to back out of our engagement?"

His eyes were red as he begged me to use his money. He even told me he couldn't eat or sleep until I started using that card.

So, just to appease him, I used the card for two cheap takeout meals.

That was it—just two.

But then I tried to surprise him with this extravagant lunch a few days later. I had this whole cute setup planned when the waiter told me the card was maxed out.

I texted him to confirm the card's limit, only to find out it was a supplementary card with a $500,000 limit.

Since I thought he might have forgotten he'd used it, I kept quiet.

After all, big-shot CEO like Oliver have a lot on their minds, and I didn't want to create any trouble over it. I decided I'd wait until the next month, when the balance resets, and then treat him.

Well. That fantasy lasted all of five minutes.

A furious Oliver stormed into my office, his eyes wild, wielding a stack of credit card statements as if they were weapons.

Therese!" he shouted, slapping the stack onto my desk. "How could you be so greedy? I told you to spend freely, but you exhausted half a million pounds in three days!

His voice was rising with every word.

"So the reason you hesitated before was that the limit was too low? Huh? You're such a damn gold-digger! Thank God I haven't married you yet, or you'd drain my entire fortune quickly!

And just like that, Oliver demanded we call off the engagement.

Not only that, he said I had to pay him back.

Without hesitation, I opened my purse, took out a $100 bill, and passed it across the desk.

"Fine. Engagement's off. Keep the change. Buy yourself a coffin."

Yeah… that set him off.

Right there, Oliver lost it. He accused me of trying to dodge responsibility.

The next thing I knew, this condescending, high-powered lawyer was there, trying to railroad me into a settlement.

But after checking the transactions, his face turned this gorgeous shade of sickly green.

——

"Therese! What the hell is this supposed to mean? Can't even admit what you did? And now you're wishing death upon me?"

Oliver was practically shaking, refusing to take the hundred I was still holding out.

So I grabbed another bill from my wallet and said calmly, "I only used your card to buy two meals. The total came to $29.90. You wanna charge me five hundred grand for that? Honestly, I should be calling the cops on you for fraud."

Then, I threw the bill onto the table.

"Still not enough?" I said. "Here's another one. Now get the hell out of my sight!"

Oliver's hands were clenched so tight, I thought he might actually pop a vein.

"You think I'm gonna believe you only spent thirty bucks, huh?" he barked.

He didn't stop as he added, "Stop pretending, Therese! The transaction records don't lie! Look at the statement! I've never seen anyone pretend to be this innocent while being this greedy!"

Receipts started spilling out of the folder onto the floor.

I didn't even look at them.

My coworkers did.

They started picking them up, flipping through the pages, their faces shifting from confused to stunned.

"Therese," one of them whispered, eyes still glued to the statement. "Your shopping record is insane…"

Word spread like wildfire. People started passing around the receipts like they were front-row tickets to a scandal.

Luxury brands. Jewelry boutiques. Five-star hotels.

The full $500,000 limit? Gone. In three days.

I snatched the statement back and flipped through the printout myself. My finger went straight to the bottom line.

"These two cheap takeout transactions? That's all I paid for. The rest? Not mine."

Since I wouldn't admit it, Oliver looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then he laughed condescendingly.

"Therese, you really are something else," he sneered. "The card was in your hand. The signatures on those transactions? Yours. And now you're saying you didn't make those charges? So what now? You think I did it?"

Oliver even pompously said, "I'm the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. You think I need to fake credit card transactions to steal money from you?"

Honestly? That's exactly what I wanted to ask him.

So I asked back.

I crossed my arms. "So, what's your explanation, Mr. Jefferson? You're telling me you didn't do it, but then whose name is on the card and the charges?"

His jaw tightened. His hand went to his tie, loosening it like he couldn't breathe.

Then he turned toward my coworkers, his voice sharp and self-righteous.

"I didn't want to air our private issues in public, but some people clearly have no shame."

Right in front of everyone, Oliver gestured at me like I was some exhibit.

"I need you all to be my witnesses!"

He turned fully to face them.

"You all know Therese and I were engaged through a family arrangement. After her graduation, I honored that promise. I threw her an extravagant engagement party. I gave her a supplementary card out of love. She wouldn't use a dime at first, and I begged her. And this is what I get in return?"